


Sweet Respite

by enigmalea



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Birthday Cake, Birthday Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Frilly Cakes, Misunderstandings, Shopping, Val Royeaux (Dragon Age), well name day cause Thedas doesn't have birthdays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27331843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/pseuds/enigmalea
Summary: Aveera Lavellan steals some quiet time with Solas in Val Royeaux between the attack on Adamant and Celene's ball at Halamshiral... but a simple gift leads to a hilarious misunderstanding.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21





	Sweet Respite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icejuliet314](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icejuliet314/gifts).



> [icejuliet314](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/icejuliet314) won this fic for The Hanged Man's first anniversary celebration as part of a raffle. The original prompt was the brain child of [CathyFowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CathyFowl/).
>
>> Lavellan somehow finds out when Solas' birthday is and decides to make him those Orlesian tiny frilly cakes as a gift. But what flavour(s) to make. She decides to make the usual classics, but also to research what flavours the ancient elves had (in cake or general) because Solas is such a nerd, he'd probably enjoy the weird/ancient flavour the most.  
> Except the kind of tiny cake recipe Lavellan finds and makes for Solas is actually a courting cake, one that lovers or betrothed couple gave each other in Arlathan.
> 
> [icejuliet314](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/icejuliet314) asked for a slight variation on this where her OC Aveera purchased the cakes instead, and this fic was born!
> 
> Hope you enjoy. ♥
> 
> * * *
> 
> **follow me for updates:** [ao3 (click subscribe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/profile) ☆ [tumblr](http://enigmalea.tumblr.com) ☆ [twitter](https://twitter.com/enigmaleaDA)  
>  **prompt me:** [how to](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/post/185117840754) ☆ [submit](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/ask) ☆ [read on tumblr](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/tagged/my-drabbles) ☆ [read on ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/frillycakes)  
>   
>  **join me on discord:** [The Hanged Man](https://discord.gg/9RERC6R) (18+, DA fanfic server for writers, readers, and betas)

They have been riding for weeks, the heavy horrors of Adamant still fresh in their minds. Early on their trip, they tried to keep their banter light and airy in spite of (or maybe perhaps because of) what they had just experienced, but the terrain between Adamant Fortress and Val Royeaux was bleak and difficult to navigate and it had eventually taken a toll on them. None of them slept well; even Cole and Sera were distant and quiet. Aveera wasn't sure they could fully recover in time for Celene's ball; she could only hope sweet Josephine and the Inquisition's attachment could help raise their spirits.

Val Royeaux loomed in the distance, tantalizingly near, surrounded partially by water reflecting the sun low on the horizon. Blackwall snorted, unable to hide the disillusionment from his voice. "Val Royeaux, huh? I remember the first time I visited it, some thirty years ago. The market was not half as large, without the garish statues. And far fewer stands selling those ridiculous frilly little cakes."

There was silence for a moment, as if everyone had forgotten how to carry a conversation beyond what was necessary in the long, hard weeks of travel. And then, "the Val Royeaux market was once nothing but tents of oiled leather and mud. Filled with ragged humans selling strings of beads made of bone."

Aveera wasn't sure Blackwall had ever looked so happy to hear Solas speak. "You saw this in the Fade?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes. I left that memory quickly. The smell..." His handsome face puckered, nose and lip curling with disgust at the memory of the foul odor.

"Must have been ages ago," Blackwall mused.

Solas let out a half-chuckle, a lighthearted sound that helped dissipate some of the tension. "Oh yes," he agreed. "It's much better now. I enjoy the frilly cakes."

Aveera couldn't help but smile at the exchange, glancing at Solas from beneath the cover of her snow-white bangs. His storm-cloud colored eyes caught her staring, and the corner of his lips tugged upward as he sent her a conspiratorial wink, as if they'd shared some inside joke.

She felt lighter than she had in weeks.  
  


* * *

  
Aveera was grateful to finally be clean of road dust and to smell of something other than horse. She pressed close to Solas, curling against him as he read, dozing on and off as the sounds of city life drifted through the walls. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the drapes, the lace behind the thick fabric leaving shadows of flowers dappling onto their skin where the light managed to seep between the gap. A light smell of lavender hung in the air from their earlier baths, providing her with a sense of calm before the impending storm.

These rooms were much nicer than the rooms the Inquisition had rented when she'd first come to Val Royeaux with them nearly a year ago. Those were much closer to the alienage, where the streets were narrow alleys, covered in filth; the mattress wasn't nearly as comfortable, and - to be honest - Aveera half-expected to be robbed at any moment. It was strange how much had changed in so little time. She'd never expected to be here, curled up next to Solas, then, not when the apostate had acted as if he could hardly look her in the eye.

The thought was fleeting, a quick realization which Aveera barely had time to process. It had been nearly a year since she'd awoken after the Conclave, in the cold, dank cells underneath the Chantry in Haven. Nearly a year. She yawned and sat up slowly, stretching; Solas' hand tightened on her arm briefly as if he were reluctant to let her go, and she smiled down at him.

"I'm going to the market," she announced. He furrowed his brow at her, and she knew before he spoke she was going to be met with objections.

"Give me a moment. I'll come with you."

"No. Stay. I just want to do a bit of shopping. I'll take Josie or Vivienne. You should rest," she answered, hoping he wouldn't press further.

His face relaxed as he reached for her, long fingers cupping her jaw as his thumb stroked against her cheekbone. "Okay," he agreed softly. "Be careful, ma vhenan."

"Always," she answered, kissing him softly.  
  


* * *

  
She didn't take Josie or Vivienne. She told them where she was going, made sure everyone knew, but she wasn't sure anyone would want to help her with this particular task. Actually, she wasn't sure she wanted anyone's help with it.

The streets of Val Royeaux were busy, and though she received a few looks (what Dalish elf wouldn't?) no one said a word to her. She wasn't sure if it was because she stood out so clearly with her fair skin, white hair, ice blue eyes, and vallaslin which matched; did they mark her as the Inquisitor or did they ignore her because she was a non-entity? She was nervous as she ducked into the first shop, but the proprietor smiled at her. "Ahhh, Inquisitor," he said as his eyes landed on her. "What can I help you with today? New armor? A weapon for yourself or a companion?"

"I'm not sure," Aveera answered truthfully. "I'm shopping for a friend. His Name Day is soon…" She trailed off frowning a bit. It must be soon, or she must have missed it.

He sensed her hesitation, but he was kind enough to say nothing of it. "We just received a new shipment of knives, if you'd like to look."

There was nothing in the first shop (of course not - it was silly for her to stop there; you don't buy weapons or armor for someone's Name Day). Or the second. Or even the third. Aveera spent an hour weaving in and out of the booths, looking for something… elusive. A book was too impersonal, though he might very well like one. She didn't know enough about his frescoes to purchase supplies for those - the mixing of pigments and plasters was a magic she didn't grasp. She was nearly ready to give up, to go back to their room empty handed, but something in a booth at the end caught her eye.

It was filled to the brim with blankets, warm cloaks, and furs. Solas was always - _always_ \- cold, even if he didn't complain nearly as much as Dorian or Varric. Something practical would fit him.

She wandered to the booth, unable to stop her fingers from running over the soft, warm fabrics and furs. Her eyes landed on a set of fingerless gloves; his current pair was starting to get worn and threadbare he wore them so often. His old ones were woolen and warm, but these… these were something soft - nearly silken - and the palms were reinforced with a suede so soft it felt like velvet; they would protect his hands from callouses from his staff. They were perfect.

The merchant was quick to quote an exorbitant price to her as his eyes scanned her ears, but the price dropped dramatically as his gaze continued lower and landed on the Inquisition broach which held her cloak shut. "My apologies," he droned, his voice pinched and tone tinged with annoyance, "that does not include your Inquisition discount of course."

Aveera schooled her expression, tried desperately not to let her irritation show as she counted out silvers at a fraction of the cost she'd have had to pay a year ago. This was Josephine's doing, her treaties and connections; it was a good thing. "It's no problem," she replied with a smile. "Thank you."

He wrapped the pair of gloves in brown paper, tying it with a green ribbon as she requested, and she tucked the package into the pocket on the inside of her cloak. She'd been shopping a while she realized, and Solas was likely concerned, even if he wouldn't admit to it immediately; she should get back soon, but the gloves weren't quite enough to celebrate the way she wanted to.

Her feet carried her around the plaza almost without her consent, her eyes lingering on various trinkets as she made her way through the busy market. Aveera was very tempted to buy gifts for them all, but that wasn't really the point of the trip. She sighed in frustration, ready to go back to the room with just the gloves, when a faint smell of sweets drifted by, carried on a light breeze from the dock.

Her stomach growled. When had they last eaten? That morning? Before packing up camp?

It was a simple matter to track down the delicious smells wafting across the open stalls. The bakery was filled to the brim with patrons all hoping to snag baguettes or croissants or patisseries. Her mouth was watering as she made her way around the stall, taking in bread loaves and pies and cookies. But it was the petit fours - the frilly cakes Blackwall had mentioned earlier that day - which drew her attention. Hadn't Solas said he'd liked them? It had been a joke, she knew, but a moment they'd shared nonetheless.

Aveera smiled to herself at the sight of the cakes. Her interest must have caught the attention of one of the clerks as he appeared in front of her a moment earlier. "Has something attracted your attention, ser?" he asked. If he were being polite because he'd noticed the Inquisition symbol on her cloak or because he didn't care she was an elf, she couldn't tell, but she was grateful.

"Yes," she answered confidently. "I'll take these two."  
  


* * *

  
Aveera threw open the door to their shared room, beaming at Solas who had - predictably - dozed off on the bed. He was a light sleeper, however, and his eyes snapped open to take her in as she swept her cloak off and tossed it onto the dresser. "Did you enjoy your trip, vhenan?"

"Of course," she declared, bouncing on the mattress as she threw herself onto it. She set the tightly wrapped gloves and the box containing the cakes in front of him before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

"What's this?" Solas asked, stretching lazily as he adjusted slightly so that he was sitting more upright. Sometimes the way he moved reminded Aveera of an overgrown house cat. She barely suppressed a giggle at the thought.

"Presents!" Aveera declared. "We've known one another for a year."

"Yes but-"

"Open them!" She cut off his protests, far too excited to go through too many explanations. He fought back a smile as he reached for the gloves first, long fingers toying with the knotted ribbon for just a moment to untie it. It fell away easily, and he pushed back the brown paper, fingertips brushing over the soft fabric.

"Oh, thank you, my heart," he said softly. "These are far better quality than my current pair." He leaned closer to deposit a kiss on her lips, and Aveera stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"That's not all. Open the box."

"The-"

"Go on!" she encouraged excitedly. Solas was careful as he slid the flimsy box to him across the bed. He fought with the narrow string for just a moment before it released, and he gently unfolded the box to reveal the two vanilla frilly cakes topped with light green frosting flavored with rose water. They were topped with delicately created lover's knots made of two types of chocolate intertwined.

Solas stiffened, the familiar dense curtain snapping into place over his face. _Oh no_ , she'd made some sort of mistake. She thought it would be fine. It was just cakes - a Name Day celebration. She was afraid to say anything, holding her breath as Solas blinked at the cakes. "Aveera," he began softly, hesitantly, as if he were afraid to ask, "w-what is the occasion for these… gifts?"

"Your Name Day?" she asked.

The air seemed to deflate out of Solas as he exhaled, the impenetrable mask sliding from his face, replaced by the easier to read expressions which were usually reserved for her in private. "It's not my Name Day," he said skeptically.

"Well, you've never told me when it is, and we've-"

"Known one another for nearly a year-" he continued for her, eyebrows raising as the statements finally made sense to him.

"Yes, and so it must be soon or have already happened. Why?"

She couldn't keep the confusion from her features as Solas let out a laugh and pulled her in for a hug, one strong arm circling her protectively. She leaned into him as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I have seen in the Fade, long ago, cakes remarkably similar to these were used in Arlathan to declare a betrothal. For a moment I thought-"

"BETROTHAL? Solas!? Are you kidding me?!" Aveera exclaimed, smacking his chest playfully. "No! I was hungry and we can't celebrate without cake." The protest felt hollow even as she made it. It had certainly crossed her mind. Maybe one day… after Corypheus… after the Inquisition. Would marrying Solas really be so terrible?


End file.
